


A Successful Failure

by chaostheoryy



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Fluff, House is as brilliant and arrogant as ever, Just complete fluff, M/M, No Spoilers, Not based on any particular episode or season, One Shot, Wilson is adorable btw, Wilson is certain he's going to have a heart attack, Witty Banter, house/wilson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 13:02:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3448148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaostheoryy/pseuds/chaostheoryy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wilson takes on the greatest challenge of his life: asking out the arrogant Gregory House.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Successful Failure

           Wilson was nervous, more so than he had ever been in his life. No interview and no presentation could ever compare to this day. Today he was going to do something brave, something no one else would ever do.

            He dressed in his finest shirt, blazer, and trousers, putting on his best tie and his newest pair of dress shoes. He took his time fixing his hair, adjusting the lose strands on his forehead at least seven times before giving in and proceeding to freshen himself with the pricy bottle of Tom Ford cologne he had bought for occasions such as this.

            He was ready. He knew he was. He was dressed, he smelled fresh, and he had the reservation information sealed in a scarlet envelope tucked inside his blazer. He wouldn't be any more ready than this and yet he was scared out of his mind. If he screwed this up, he could very well damage the strongest friendship he'd ever had. He couldn't afford that. This had to work. He _needed_ it to.

            He made one final attempt to tame the stray hairs on his forehead before surrendering and heading out to climb in his Volvo and make the drive to the hospital which, to his dismay, was quicker than usual. Hell, it was almost _too_ quick.

            The second he stepped through the front doors, Wilson felt his heart cartwheel in his chest. Each stride was bringing him closer and closer to the daunting task he had so thoroughly prepared himself for. _And guaranteed cardiac arrest_ , Wilson thought as he made his way down the abnormally constricting hallway. As he turned the corner and saw the all-too-familiar glass doors of Gregory House's office, his breath hitched and his body protested any further advancement.

            _Oh crap_ , he ruminated as he stood motionless beside the wall, _I can't do this. Not yet. He's probably in there with Foreman talking about that Wesson case. Last thing I need is for Foreman to witness me embarrass the living hell out of myself._

            He repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fists, his tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips. He had to put this off. He could wait. He could just hide away in his office for a few hours and catch House at a better time. He could drop in during his lunch break and-

            "Have you gotten cold feet or have you realized she's a complete whore?"

            Wilson's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets upon hearing the rugged voice behind him. He spun around, inadvertently slamming his right arm into the wall. "Ah!" He hissed and clutched at his forearm for a moment as he looked at the tall figure of Gregory House now standing before him.

            "No need to answer," House said before Wilson could even form a response, "Your inability to control your motor function tells me it's the former."

            Wilson's expression was full of shock and fear, making it all too easy to elicit a string of jokes and obnoxious comments from the doctor before him. As much as he wanted to turn tail and sprint for his life, the oncologist was trapped.

            "So," House inquired, his eyebrows cocked a little too high for his aging face, "Who is she?"

            Wilson blinked and looked House over quickly. The man seemed genuinely interested in knowing the answer to this question. Strange. That had to be a first. "Who is who?" He countered, the nervousness he was feeling far too obvious in his voice.

            House rolled his eyes before narrowing them at the oncologist. "Who is the poor woman you're planning to ask out? Clearly she's here in the hospital. You certainly don't dress this ridiculous every day just to get all handsy with those dying kids of yours."

            "House!"

            House completely ignored Wilson's vexed expression and repeated his earlier question. "Who is she? A nurse maybe? One of those pretty interns Cuddy hired last week? Or..." House let out a dramatically fake gasp and brought his hand up to mockingly cover his mouth. "Don't tell me you are actually trying to get in _Cuddy's_ pants!"

            Wilson was completely taken aback by House's assumption. "What? No! House, I'm not trying to get in anyone's pants!" He contended. Oh good. House thought he was trying to go after Cuddy, of all people!

            "Ohhh right," House said sarcastically as he tapped his cane against the smooth floor, "How silly of me. You're trying to woo someone in the hopes of having _them_ try to get  in _your_ pants."

            "Wha-" Words seemed to fail Wilson for a long moment, leaving him helplessly gaping at the doctor. This was absolute torture. He couldn't run and he couldn't do anything to convince House to drop the subject. He was caught in a crossfire with the one person he had hoped to delay seeing until he was fully prepared. Wilson blinked rapidly, clenching his jaw. "Has it occurred to you that I might actually give a crap about people and want to pursue a serious relationship?"

            House furrowed his brow and looked up at the ceiling, pretending to give serious thought to the oncologist's question. "Hmmm... No, not really," he jested.

            Wilson was completely affronted. Did House really think he was driven simply by sexual desire? "Well, I do," he asserted sternly.

            House narrowed his eyes and tilted his head slightly, clearly analyzing Wilson. "You're touchier than normal. Clearly you're uncomfortable with the idea of having me know the identity of your current love interest," he deduced, "Which means I must know this person. Maybe even just as well as you do."

            Wilson's heart seemed to cease working altogether. House was getting far too close to knowing who he was after, far too close to discovering that House himself was the one he wanted. Of course he was planning for House to know but not like this. He wanted to be the one to _tell_ him by asking him out on a date. He didn't want the man to deduce his way to the truth!

            "Now what may be even more interesting than the _who_ ," House added with a smirk, "Is the _what_. In particular, what are the reservations in your jacket pocket for?"

            The oncologist's jaw dropped. "How did you-?"

            "It's not that difficult to tell when someone's got something stuffed in their clothes," House explained arrogantly, "It's like watching a kid steal their first candy bar."

            Wilson was in disbelief. There was no way he had been that obvious. It certainly wasn't the first time he'd tucked an envelope or a memo in the pocket of his jacket. Had he subconsciously viewed it as a pressuring weight? Clearly he had if House knew he had something on him....

            "Chase."

            Wilson was yanked out of his thoughts as if forcefully pushed from a platform onto subway tracks. " _What_?"

            House's knowing expression hadn't changed at all since Wilson had spaced out. "Whoever the person is, they're clearly someone you and I know well yet is out of your comfort zone so I'm guessing it has to be Chase. Not judging you of course." He smirked at Wilson as the oncologist blinked and repeatedly opened his mouth to respond only to shut it.

            "Wha- No! It's not Chase! He's not-" Wilson stammered, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

            House's brow cocked. " _Foreman_? I must say that has to be a surprise. I never knew you were one of those white boys with jungle fever-"

            "House!" Wilson shouted, desperate to get the man to stop listing the names of all of his colleagues, "It's not Cuddy! It's not Chase! And it's not Foreman! Would you just-!" He stopped. His lungs seemed to struggle with the duty of respiration, the embarrassment and frustration leaving his breathing abnormally labored. He was screwed. A hundred percent screwed. Either he told House now or continue to suffer the torture of having House list every single employee in the hospital. He had to do it. Whether he was ready or not, he had to tell House.

            Wilson lowered his head and put his hands on his hips as he licked his lips and took a deep, almost shaky breath. "It's you, alright?" He finally blurted, "I was trying to ask you out on a date." Every organ in the oncologist's body seemed to shut down, knowing that his confession was bound to leave him in a dire position. Either he was about to receive a harsh rejection and lose his best friend or he was going to be subject to an abundance of House's teasing for the rest of his life.

            To his surprise, however, when he finally gathered the courage to look up at the man he had just confessed to, House's expression was neither one of surprise nor distaste. In fact, the infamous doctor was smirking. Wilson was completely perplexed. "Why are you smirking?" He asked nervously, simultaneously curious and fearful of the man's impending answer.

            House took a step forward, his electric-blue eyes alarmingly gentle despite his cheeky smirk. "Because I knew it was me," he revealed in a near whisper.

            Wilson's eyes went wide. House knew. This entire time, House had known it was him. "Y-you-" Wilson stammered in astonishment, "This whole time you knew and yet you _interrogated_ me?"

            House's smirk grew wider. "Yup. I wanted to see how long it would take for you to spit it out. Not to mention the fact that I was worried you might talk yourself out of it. I've just saved you hours of contemplation and internal conflict. So, you're welcome."

            The look of disbelief on Wilson's face vanished, giving way to an expression of irritation. "You're an ass."

            House let out yet another melodramatic gasp and clutched at his chest. "Why Wilson, that is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me."

            Wilson couldn't fight the smile that tugged at his lips upon having House tease him. He had confessed his interest in his best friend and yet House was behaving as immaturely as ever. That was definitely a good sign. Their friendship hadn't been slaughtered by his big reveal. Thank God.

            "I should file through that damn cane of yours," Wilson said, returning House's smirk with one of his own.

            "Oh, darling, you certainly know how to woo a man."

            "Keep it up and I might just ask Chase out instead."

            To Wilson's surprise, one of House's hands grabbed him by the tie and pulled him forward. The oncologist's breath hitched and his heart made an attempt to break free from his ribcage as House leaned down until their faces were merely an inch or two apart. He could feel House's warm breath against his lips and knew that all the blood in his body had switched direction and flown straight to his cheeks. He was just an inch away, just one tiny inch from having House's mouth tenderly pressed against his. Oh God, he wanted to know what it felt like. Hell he _needed_ to know what it felt like. Maybe if he just leaned forward and closed the gap between them...

            "Two can play the game of teasing," House whispered, "But only one of us has perfected our game play."

            Wilson nearly whined in protest as House pulled back with a smirk and released the oncologist's tie. He had been so damn close! And now House was giving him that shit-eating, _'I know what you want but I won't let you have it yet just so I can watch you struggle'_ grin of his.

            Before Wilson could come up with a witty response, House was limping past him. Wilson blinked, still completely flustered by how close he had been to kissing the man. "W-where are you going?" He blurted out.

            "To my office," House called over his shoulder.

            "Can I join you?"

            House immediately froze in his tracks and turned part of the way around, an intrigued look on his scruffy face. "That depends. Are you planning to discuss the itinerary of our date or make-out with me like a hormonal teenager?"

            Wilson couldn't help the playful smirk that tugged at his mouth. The question was so blunt and just so... So _House_. "Both," he answered.

            The grin that crept its way onto House's face was brighter and more genuine than ever. "Then by all means, step into my office." He gestured to his office with his cane before proceeding to limp the remainder of the way there.

            Wilson stood at the end of the hall with his hands on his hips, shaking his head in disbelief as House disappeared into his office. He'd done it. He'd actually built up the courage to attempt to initiate a romantic relationship with Gregory House and it had _worked_. The stupidest grin remained plastered on his face, even as he felt a number of eyes digging into him. He couldn't help himself. Although he had failed to ask House the way he had planned, he'd succeeded. _A successful failure_ , he mused.

            After a long moment of standing on his own and letting the realization of his success sink in, Wilson took a deep breath and marched forward toward what he knew would be the most memorable conversation he would ever have in House's office.


End file.
